he's got high apple pie in the sky hopes.

I think I'm letting my hopes get too high, and for nothing. Damnit.

i want to know your plans and how involved in them i am.

& I just want to quit now to make it easier on both our consciences. Because maybe then, we wouldn't have to pretend so much around everyone else. There is still some exhilaration, yet... and I want to desperately consummate something- anything- with you. Maybe it'll cure this madness in my soul...

mindless self indulgence fits you.

Why do you have to be there just when I really need the attention? I'm worried that working together tomorrow will be different because of what happened today. Desperately, I want to ask you if I fucked up and have sent you messages but I'm getting paranoid and freaked out because... it feels like I'm being ignored again and I'm scared of that, now.

I felt so many conflicts today, that I don't know where to start. Should I hope for more or should I just give up now? Because if you don't think this is going to work, I'd rather not risk it until my heart's ready to be shattered again.

at this point the only escape is decapitation.

I hate your uncanny ability to pervade every single one of my thoughts even now. Get out of my head, you vindictive little bitch, because I don't want you in there anymore. Away, be gone, go to places where people might actually care to hear juvenile input.

And don't post a song to me (deny it if you dare, but the truth is obvious) that, when closely inspected, IS ABOUT YOU. It just shows how well you DIDN'T know me. I'm far too mainstream to be an anti-conformist, you stupid little cunt.

I have seen sinking ships go down with more grace than you.

i suppose i should thank you for this.

Because if not for your bullshit, I wouldn't have gold in the form of eloquent words and misshapen thoughts. All things that can be magicked into a lyrical vagueness that makes me feel oh, so clever. Alas, you're still good for something in my life... I hope you're happy (and I mean that in both the most cynical and sincere way possible).

throwing blame like a frisbee (i've never been good at catching those).

You blame me for everything wrong in your life, but did you ever stop to think that you're the only one with the power to ruin your own life? Throwing the blame to someone else is what separates adults and children. Clearly, you are still a child. Accuse me all you want, blame me all you want, but I did nothing wrong (and the fact that I don't have the same beliefs or morals has nothing to do with this). You came to me under false pretenses and you expect an apology?

You want apologies, girl you might hold you breath until your breathing stops forever, forever.

Why should I have to? That was my initial reaction... but I just remembered that phone call outside of his house. If I never apologized for the wrongs I felt I did, then that call was meaningless. When it comes to apologies, I've learned to take what you can get, because it's not worth losing people over something so petty (and it really is petty).

When you can reflect on yourself and admit you're not a God, then we'll talk.

two goodbyes, two different sympathies.

I don't mention names here because the people that are meant to read these entries should always know who they are (and if they've got questions, they should ask me).

Hello, little girl. I hope that you're happy with your choices. I hope you go on to have a good life because I'm better than wishing bad things on you. I'm past that childish stage, and I know that doing that shit gets you nowhere, though I reckon you need to learn this on your own. When you get slapped in the face, that's when you'll see I was right all along. This doesn't mean I'm going to let you ride out without a nice, resounding FUCK YOU AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON, though.

You use people. You use them for what you want and when they are no longer useful, you throw them away. The only person that stays by you is your pathetic lap dog of a best friend. That's it. No one leaves you, YOU leave EVERYONE else with stupid reasons, accusations. You're just another emo kid who thinks she knows every-goddamn-thing, but I've got news for you: you DON'T. And when reality slaps you in the face (and I'll be able to hear it no matter where I am), I'm going to say "I told you so."

Still, have a nice life. I'm not as low as you to wish you misery. That's just juvenile. How sad that you think with ideas like that in your head you could possibly win against me.

...

I don't know if you'll even read this, second person who I've had to say goodbye to. I'm not mad. I'm not really upset. We hadn't really reconnected enough for any of that. I still miss the original friendship we had. Maybe we tried too soon.

I don't know why, though, but my mind tells me that had we worked a little harder on this it would have worked. I want to try, but I get the impression you don't. Maybe it's because you have so much going on. Maybe it's because you've outgrown me. I don't really know.

rambling through brambles (will i ever learn?).

Sheep are herded, and I can't help but think that there's something amiss here. Could it be you've a devil on your shoulder whispering tidbits to you? Paranoia is a silly thing. Why should I even bother? If an excuse to be rid of me is so easy to come by, did you ever really want me back? Harsh words for even harsher thoughts. At this point, I'm too numb to care if it's hypothermia (because it's never lupus).

for the first time in a long time, i want to kill myself.

Waste is a terrible thing to mind. Please pay no attention to the girl behind the curtain. She's got too many miles on the odometer. You wouldn't be caught dead in this place, so go. Just go.

Don't try to save her, this is just what she deserves.

This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise you a heart, just promise one thing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

This is what I brought you, this you can keep.
This is what I brought, you may forget me.
I promise you my heart just promise to sing.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

This is what I thought, I thought you’d need me.
This is what I thought, so think me naive
I'd promised you a heart, you'd promise to keep.
Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.


Kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

&some secrets were never meant to be told.

He called me, said he'd told you. And now the cat's out of the bag. What about mine? What about me? Why? Perhaps... and I feel like scum because I couldn't tell you myself. Because I'm too nice. He asked me not to tell you, and I honored that the same way I honor your requests not to tell him anything. Because I'm his friend, too... He didn't care if I told you anything else- anything but that- and I didn't tell you.

Granted, I didn't think it prudent. I can't imagine that it would have been something you necessarily needed to know, but I really wanted to tell you and he told me not to. I have had this guilt saddled on me for a while, now.

And it makes me feel like trash. Really, it does. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Please accept this apology. Please. I really hate that I had to take advantage of your trust like that. Please believe me.

I'm so terrified right now.

this is all speculation, really.

Coming to terms with being less than what you want to be is always difficult. And maybe I'm just thinking too much. He might have had to pull a double shift, he might have just ignored me. You can never tell with him because he's missing some vital common sense. He doesn't call to warn me of things such as this, but I can see that he's not alone if he is still at work (so why..?). Knowing who's with him, though, I can see it turning out like this.

But I'm going to prove to him that he's wrong. I don't need him, or anyone else. It's just more fun to pass time with good company. If he wants to be alone that badly, then I'll let him. I'll stop trying and just be and we'll see if he misses it.

something just out of reach.

Casanova; it truly is an inspiring story. And not just for the softcore nature of the video, because there are several bed scenes... but because of the overall message.

What's the point of living if you want nothing? Once you get everything you've ever wanted, what then?

Now I'm scared of ever making it. I don't want to stop wanting. I don't want to stop needing. At that point, I may as well be dead.

Giacomo Casanova always had Henriette to live for, a woman he could never truly have. And perhaps hopeful optimism is being twisted into something unnatural, but I want to try.

No, I will.